


Emeralds & Sapphires

by BastilleWolf



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dragon Sickness, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Thorin Is an Idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastilleWolf/pseuds/BastilleWolf
Summary: When the King Under The Mountain is deemed ill once more by the Grey Wizard himself, he falls under the care of a strange woman, who claims to be a healer. But even she couldn’t comprehend the severity of the situation, or everything that would follow.
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Reader
Kudos: 11





	Emeralds & Sapphires

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve always had a big crush on Thorin, yet never had the guts to write about him, as Middle Earth is a very intimidating universe that I do not know enough about. I apologize for any mistakes, and must warn you that updates are not weekly, as I have two major fics I still need to finish first. This one’s just for fun.
> 
> I promise the next chapter will be much longer, by the way. Oh, and fuck BOFTA. No one’s died.

“And who might you be?”

The dwarf before her held a defensive stance, his spear tilting dangerously close to her neck. Naturally, however, she remained calm, as it was not like her to feel outraged by such primitive behaviour. She was above that, having seen more unnecessary violence in her lifetime than these mere mortal folk ever would. They didn’t know any better.

“I do believe that’s none of your concern,” she replied sternly, “However, as time is of the essence, I request an immediate audience with Gandalf. Tell him the Green Wizard sent you.”

The dwarf’s eyebrows nearly hit the edge of his hairline with the incredulous look he gave her.

“You shall do as I ask, master dwarf, or something worse shall befall you other than a rude introduction.” Her irises grew dark, her voice heavy, and the spark of electricity running through the sky seemed to be what did the trick to get the guard to listen.

Not long after, a familiar figure clad entirely in grey appeared in the grand doorway of Erebor. He opened his arms towards her in greeting. “ _Calentiris_ , how good of you to come.” He was slightly out of breath, and if she hadn’t known him all her life, she would’ve probably been fooled by his old man act and offered him assistance. But since this was not the case, and she was clearly not sympathetic over his antics, he took notice and got straight to the point. “We need to speak in private.”

As she followed him through endless hallways and stairwells, she couldn’t help but voice her thoughts. “I thought you would be done with these dwarves by now, Gandalf. Weren’t you only supposed to be a guide to help them get their home back?”

“Yes, and I did. But I made a promise; that I would get them home safe.” He turned to her and looked her straight in the eyes, something dark and worrying looming on the tip of his tongue. “The king is ill. And I do not think it would be wise to leave him here without proper aid. I’m not only doing this out of the goodness of my heart, Calentiris. I’m trying to prevent a war from happening between the same people who once stood united against the orcs of Moria.”

He continued their journey, with her following closely behind. “Saruman will not be pleased about this, Gandalf.”

“Saruman doesn’t need to know, as far as I’m concerned,” he grumbled in response, not even bothering to look back at her. She smirked.

* * *

“Who is that?” a dwarf spat, only moments after the doors had been closed behind them. Gandalf had led her into what appeared to be a conference room, with only three chairs filled, and the king’s seat empty.

On the left of the intricately large piece of royal furniture, sat a dwarf with hair as white as freshly fallen snow, and beard almost reaching his middle. Next to him, was the grump who had asked the question, and he seemed fitting for the part. His head was almost entirely bald, but covered by intricate tattoos in a language she’d only seen fragments of before. _Khuzdul_ , she recognized. Two axes were slung across his back, and she was sure those weren’t just there to intimidate.

She met a pair of hazel eyes sitting across from the brutish man. His golden hair was intricately braided, bearing many beads and different patterns. She sensed that he was apprehensive, but perhaps also the one who was least concerned by her appearance.

“This, master Dwalin, is the acquaintance I spoke to you about. She might be able to help us on this matter, so you’d be wise to behave properly. She is a lady, after all.”

Both Dwalin and the Green Wizard rolled their eyes, as Gandalf merely grinned with satisfaction.

They stepped towards the table, and introductions were made quickly.

“Balin, at your service.”

“Fíli, at your service.”

Dwalin… At your service.”

She nodded to each of them, raising a brow at the golden-haired dwarf who seemed to look at her with so much underlying desperation she almost felt the need to take a step back. But knowing who he was, and the state of worry he must be in for his uncle, she understood.

“At yours. I am Calentiris, also known among many as the Green Wizard.”

“Calentiris?” Dwalin scoffed, “You best go under a different alias around here, lass, for most of our folk won’t utter a word of _Elvish_.”

“I appreciate your concern, master Dwalin, though I dare assume that the only folk I’ll be speaking to are the decent kind, as I take this is an urgent matter only your closest will be familiar with.”

The dwarf’s eyes narrowed at the underlying insult. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying-“

“You’d be right, mistress,” his brother interrupted quickly, before any more damage was done, “As our folk are most certainly the decent kind, only guarded towards strangers. You must understand.”

She gave a nod in response. She couldn’t blame the people of the mountain for their grudge against the elves, not whilst their history books clearly stated that they never forgave, and never forgot. However, for them to show any form ill intent towards those who might be acquainted with elves was a bit dramatic, even for her standards. It would rule out a lot of humans, hobbits and other kin alike.

“I’m afraid must cut our small talk short,” Gandalf gave her the side-eye, “As more important matters await. I do apologize for the curt message, Calentiris, but things have turned for the worse the past few days. It couldn’t wait.”

“What’s happened?”

Fíli stepped forward with a grave sense of severity.

“Thorin struck my brother.”

And the room fell deathly quiet.


End file.
